Obscurial
by Wolf Shaman
Summary: "Before wizards went underground, when we were still being hunted by Muggles, young wizards and witches sometimes tried to suppress their magic to avoid persecution. So instead of learning to harness or to control their powers, they developed what was called an Obscurus." -Newt Scamander. The Dursleys never liked magic, and neither did Harry. Spoilers for Fantastic Beasts
1. Pilot

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything in the Harry Potter universe

 **Warning:** Some of the things in here are from _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_. There aren't any spoilers for the plot line of the film, however, the idea of this came to me after seeing the film.

* * *

"Dudley! What are you watching?" His aunt's shriek made Harry freeze, before he realized it was his cousin, and not him, who was on the end of his aunt's wrath. He crept forward, curious on how his perfect cousin had gotten in trouble.

Dudley was sitting on the couch, his shocked face staring up at his mother. The telly blared in the background. "I was . . . I was just watching _Dungeons and Dragons_ , Mummy!" His chin wobbled, as if he was about to cry.

Harry's aunt whirled around to face the telly, with the remote in hand. There was a small clicking sound, and the telly's screen faded to black. "Dudley," she started, before noticing Harry peeking from the kitchen. "Harry, you too. I have something to tell you, but it will have to wait until Vernon comes home. Go down to the park and play for a bit. I'll call you when dinner's ready." Petunia turned and walked to the kitchen, dismissing them.

Harry looked over at Dudley, a grin growing on his face. "Race you to the swings!" And he ran out of the house, with a shout of "Hey!" on his trail.

* * *

"Vernon," Petunia hesitantly brought up. "I think it's time to have a discussion on magic." The two boys stopped chewing at the words, and Vernon leveled a stare on his wife.

"What do you mean, 'a discussion on magic'? Magic isn't real, so there isn't anything to be discussed about, right?" Harry's innocent question brought life back to the table. Vernon gave a quick nod, and Petunia started.

"When your mother – my sister – turned eleven, Harry, she got a letter from an . . . elite boarding school. This letter stated that she was a witch-" Petunia glared at all the tables occupants, daring them to interrupt. "-and that magic was real. She was invited to study magic at the boarding school, which only taught those with magic in their blood. Needless to say, she accepted. That's where she met your father."

"Does that mean . . . does that mean that _I'm_ a witch?"

Petunia sucked in a breath, her mouth going all small as it did when she was displeased. "You would be a _wizard_ , Harry, and no, it does _not_ mean that you're a wizard. And Harry, you don't want to be a wizard. Magic killed your parents."

"But I thought you said there was a car crash?"

"That was a lie. A wizard serial killer killed them. He was about to kill you, but you were able to survive. And then the _good_ wizards and witches dropped you off on our doorstep in the middle of the night, without so much as a word to us. They didn't think to even tell me that my sister had been _killed_." Petunia dabbed at her eyes, then stared straight at Harry. "Magic is _bad_ , Harry. Magic is evil and only sets you up for terrible things. You don't want to be evil, do you Harry?"

Harry shook his head so fast he almost fell out of his chair. "Oh, no, Aunt Petunia. I don't want to be evil."

"Then if you ever feel like something _magic_ is going to happen, suppress it. You're only six. We can fight this awful disease."

* * *

 **A/N:** This will have more chapters, but I doubt it will be much longer. It most likely won't be updated for awhile. School is just awful, don't you agree?


	2. Tally Marks

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything in the Harry Potter universe.

 **Warning:** Some of the things in here are from _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_. There aren't any spoilers for the plot line of the film, however, the idea of this came to me after seeing the film.

 **Tally Marks**

Harry smiled to himself as he drew another tally mark on the cupboard door. Today had marked the 54th day since anything evil had happened. Harry brought a hand up to his hair as he remembered the last time. He shook off the memory and dropped the pencil on the ground. Laying down on his mattress, he surrendered himself to his dreams.

* * *

"Up! Up! Breakfast time!" The pounding ceased, and Harry could hear footsteps walking towards the kitchen. He rubbed his eyes, blinked, and leapt to his feet.

As Harry padded into the kitchen, Vernon looked up from his morning newspaper. "Anything freakish happen yesterday?"

"No, Uncle Vernon." Harry looked up at Petunia and accepted his plate of fried eggs and bacon. "Thank you, Aunt Petunia." Petunia nodded and directed her attention towards the stairs, where she could Dudley bounding down.

"What's for breakfast Mummy?" He asked when he appeared in the entrance.

"Good morning, Dudley. Did you sleep well?" Petunia cooed over him as she handed him a plate and directed him towards the table. She looked over at Harry, as if to say, "Well, are you going to sit down or not?" He hastily sat down and scarfed down his breakfast.

"I'm done, Aunt Petunia. Can I go to the library?"

"May, Harry. Not can."

"May I go to the library, Aunt Petunia?" Harry didn't wait for an answer, and instead jumped off his chair and headed towards the door.

"Remember, no books-"

"About magic! I've got it, Uncle Vernon!"

* * *

Looking up at the sky, Harry didn't notice the person walking up to him until it was too late.

"Watch it, kid," the giant – _big person_ , Harry corrected himself. Magic was evil and shouldn't be used in everyday context – growled.

Harry scrambled to his feet with apologies spilling off his tongue. "I'm sorry – I wasn't looking where I was going. I'm really sorry-"

The _big person_ cut in, cracking his knuckles. "Obviously. Maybe you should be taught a lesson, huh, squirt?"

Harry paled and shook his head. "No, no, I don't thing you need to do that!" But the big person didn't listen and lifted a fist. Harry flinched, preparing himself for the pain that was just about to come, but then it didn't come. Opening his eyes, he saw the big person sprawled on the ground ten feet away from him. Paling even more, Harry spun on his heels and ran towards Number 4 Privet Drive.

The slam of the door startled Petunia into dropping her cup of tea. "Harry! You're eight now, I shouldn't have to tell you not to slam doors anymore. Besides, I thought you were at the library." A sob answered her. "Harry?"

"I'm sorry, Aunt Petunia! I didn't mean to, I really didn't! I'm sorry!"

Petunia looked at her nephew with concern. "Slamming a door shouldn't cause you to cry, Harry. What do you need to apologize about?"

Harry looked up at Petunia. "I'm evil, Aunt Petunia. I did an evil thing! I'm sorry! But it just came out, and I couldn't stop it and then he was on the ground-"

Petunia startled, alarmed. "You mean you did it to another _human_? Harry, you need to control this! You need to learn to suppress this...this _evil_. What if you hurt someone, and all you could possibly say was 'I didn't mean to'? You need to bury this magic deep down, so it _never_ comes out again. Do you understand me?"

Harry looked down at his feet. "Yes, Aunt Petunia. I'm sorry."

Petunia took his chin in her hand and wiped away a stray tear. "I'm doing this for your safety, Harry. Trust me, you don't want to be evil. And I know you have the ability to be good, you just need to destroy all the magic traces in you."

Harry nodded and walked away, with Petunia watching him until he closed the door to his cupboard. Satisfied, she nodded and bent down to pick up the broken pieces of her cup.

* * *

Harry picked up the pencil and scribbled out the 54 tally marks. He promised himself that tomorrow he would be able to draw another tally on the door, starting a new series. And this one would _never_ be scribbled out.


	3. Too Much

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything in the Harry Potter universe.

 **Warning:** Some of the things in here are from _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_. There aren't any spoilers for the plot line of the film, however, the idea of this came to me after seeing the film.

 **Too Much**

Head Auror Rufus Scrimgeour was not having a pleasant day. His alarm hadn't gone off, leaving him with no time to eat breakfast. And now some fool was disrupting the Statute of Secrecy. His stomach rumbled and a snarl came upon his face. He was not going to be showing that fool any mercy.

"Sir!" His frazzled secretary came up. "Sir, we just got the location. And, well, Albus Dumbledore is insisting that the Ministry forget about it and let him handle it. He-" She broke off when she noticed the murderous look that he was sending towards her.

"Dumbledore has no experience in this! Clear my morning, Dolores. Actually, make that my week. I'll need a _long_ vacation after this." He started to walk away, before he turned back. "And send in Proudfoot and Shacklebolt after me as soon as they arrive."

* * *

Albus Dumbledore Apparated onto the street outside Number 4 Privet Drive, not caring about the Muggles who may be watching. All that was running through his head was the safety of Harry Potter.

The sudden crack of Apparation had him turning, his robes moving in a way that would make Snape jealous. "I thought I told the Ministry to let me handle this, Rufus. Did you not get my message?"

"No, no, we got your message. Now, where is the hooligan?" His eyes were scanning the landscape, searching for any suspicious behavior.

Dumbledore strode towards one of the houses, not looking behind him to see if Scrimgeour was following. "I believe the magic is coming from inside. No, it is not accidental magic. This is too powerful and too _raw_. Whoever this is, they haven't used magic in a _long_ time. They may even have purposefully refrained from using magic."

Scrimgeour breathed out a soft "No," and stopped. "Albus, you can't be serious! We haven't had a case like this since the 1700s."

Albus turned, his eyes having lost that infuriating twinkle. "That doesn't mean that it couldn't happen."

* * *

He hadn't meant to break it! He swore he didn't! He had just been running and while he knew he shouldn't have been running inside, that didn't change the fact that he had _accidently_ tripped on the rug, causing the television to fall over.

As Harry shrank from the glares that both his aunt and uncle were sending him, he searched for a way to make it better, to make Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon love him again. "I can fix it! I can, I know I can! And it wouldn't be evil, would it, Aunt Petunia? Because I would be helping you, and it wouldn't hurt anyone, and it wouldn't be for me. So I can fix it, right?" Harry turned away from them and focused on the telly, drawing on that small spark that used to be so big and bright, but now was so pathetically tiny. He brought it up to his hands, not really understanding the logic behind this, but knowing that this was the way to do it. He thrust the magic towards the broken telly, intending to bring it back and lock it up again.

Except the magic didn't stop there. It rushed past the now fixed telly and ran along the wall, sending framed photographs of Dudley flying.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING, BOY! BRING IT BACK, YOU BETTER BRING THAT EVILNESS RIGHT BACK!" His uncle rushed towards Harry and shook him by the shoulders, his mustache quivering with every word that was spoken.

Harry looked at him with glazed over eyes. "I can't. It won't...it won't listen to me." He shrugged out of the grasp of his uncle. "And I don't think I want it to listen to me." Harry screamed as his magic came rushing back to him and picked him up. His eyes rolled back and he _melted_ into the ball of raw magic.

* * *

Proudfoot and Shacklebolt stared in shock at the sight that greeted them. The normally very tidy neighborhood was in the process of being torn up. Muggles were running up and down the street, some with belongings in hand. But the real sight was in the sky. A _thing_ was racing from house to house, stopping at some and rushing in. The remains of those who had been inside when the thing had come in were strewn about.

"Proudfoot!" Scrimgeour hurried towards them, his eyes wild and his robes in disarray. "Ward the edges of the neighborhood, make sure no one can get out and no one can get in, save for Apparation and Portkey. We don't want _him_ to destroy anything else."

"Sir?" Shacklebolt ventured, glancing at his partner. "Sir, what is that? Is it a Death Eater?"

"Wish it was, Shacklebolt. I damn wish it was. No, that's what used to be a magical child, one that was hurt to the point of becoming an Obscurial." With that, Scrimgeour strode over to the other figure, one that Proudfoot and Shacklebolt recognized as Dumbledore.

* * *

Dumbledore looked at the sky, turning his wand over in his hands. He had failed his boy. He had failed Lily, James, and so many others. But most of all, he had failed Harry. Harry had deserved so much better than this, so much more. He could feel Scrimgeour coming to stand beside him, but he didn't tear his gaze from Harry. It was the least he could do.

"Do you know who this is, Albus?"

Dumbledore swallowed before answering. "Harry James Potter."

 **A/N:** So I believe this is the end. I never expected this to get this long. I was under the impression that this would be another one of my OneShots, but then the popularity grew and grew and wow. Thank you so much for reviewing and following and favoriting. It made my day.

On a different subject... One year ago today, I woke up to the knowledge that Alan Rickman, arguably one of my favorite actors, had passed away. Although he may have played one of our least favorite professors, he will forever and always be in our hearts. Until the very end, Potterheads. /*


	4. After

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything in the Harry Potter universe.

 **A/N:** I did not expect to write another chapter, but here we are...

 **After**

He couldn't remember his name. All he could remember was-

 _Chaos. Yells and tears and guilt and screams and apologies._

All he could remember was that he was evil. _Evil_.

"Evil," he whispered to himself as he wandered the forest he had woken up in. "Evil, evil, evil."

He also couldn't remember what evil meant.

But that was alright. He was evil, and that was all he needed to know.

* * *

He hadn't eaten for the whole time he had been in the forest. Maybe even longer than that-

 _Eggs and rice and cake and ice cream and sometimes chocolate-_

But he didn't let himself think about Before. He couldn't remember most of it anyway.

He hadn't eaten for the whole time he had been in the forest, and his stomach didn't hurt. That was confusing; wasn't your stomach supposed to hurt if you were hungry? The only conclusion he could draw was that he _wasn't_ hungry, but how did that make any sense? The sun had set twice already, which meant he had been here for a long time.

But his stomach didn't hurt.

"Stupid," he muttered, and then he stopped.

He had remembered another word.

"Stupid, evil, stupid, evil, STUPID!"

He was very proud of himself.

* * *

He wasn't alone here.

He didn't know if he should be worried or not.


	5. Albania

**Disclaimer:** I do not, and I never will own Harry Potter or anything resembling it.

 **Albania**

He had heard the voice when he was watching the river rush past him. At first, he had thought it was the wind, because it was soft and high and whispering. But winds generally didn't _say_ something.

"Child," it had said in his ear. "Child, join me. We can be great together. Join me."

He had shivered and muttered back, "Stupid evil."

The voice didn't return for a long time after that.

* * *

He could hear the voice again. It caresses him, sliding over his body in a way that has him shivering even though he isn't cold.

"Join me," it whispers after being sure it had gotten his attention. "Find me. I can help you, but only if you promise to help me. Find me, child."

He stands up quickly and turns away from the direction he believed the voice to be coming from. Hands clasped tightly around his ears, he began to walk away.

"Foolish boy," and it's back, creeping over his hands and sliding into his ears. "You think you can ignore me? You'll find me. You'll come for me, I know you will."

He whimpers and stops walking. The voice sounds louder, and he's lost now, he's sure he is, because this place doesn't look familiar to him in the slightest.

"See, I knew you'd find me-" and he's running, stumbling over tree roots and bushes because there is something _wrong_ over there and he doesn't know what it is, he just needs to _get away_.

"You'll find me." But it's okay now, because the voice is quieter, and farther away. "You won't be able to resist. And then we will be joined, forever one, and no one will be able to stop us."

* * *

"Dead," he rasps out, and he doesn't think to congratulate himself on remembering another word. "Dead, dead, dead. _They're all dead!_ "

The voice is soothing, running down the arms wrapped around his head. "Shh," it whispers, and this time it feels _right_ , not creepy. "Shh," it says again. "You don't want it to happen again, do you?"

The boy - _Harry_ , he reminds himself, his name is _Harry_ \- lifts his head. "What do you mean?"

The voice stops its calming gestures and takes on a hard tone. "Well, it _was_ your fault, wasn't it? It was _your_ fault that you lost control, _your_ fault that everyone is dead, _your_ fault." It pauses and adds on: "but I can help make sure it never happens again. All you need to do is find me. That's all. Find me, and I'll make sure you never hurt someone again."

Harry lifts himself to his feet, tottering slightly. "Alright," he nods. "I'll find you. I promise.

"I'll hold you to that, child," and the voice rushes away.

* * *

Pain. Red hot searing _pain_ is flooding his body. He can't hear anything, save for a loud shrieking that seems to have been going on for as long as he can remember. He doesn't realize it's coming from his own mouth.

And then it stops. Everything stops. The pain is no more - _everything_ is no more. Nothing matters and that is all he knows. And then even that knowledge is lost.


	6. Nineteen Years Later

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, nor anything relating to the franchise.

* * *

They hadn't stood a chance. They had been so excited that Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen One, hadn't died. They hadn't seen the signs, the odd behavior, and if they had, they dismissed it, for an Obscurus had _never_ healed before, and maybe that's just how they acted.

They hadn't stood a chance, and they were soon defeated.

"My lord," whispered the man kneeling on the ground. "My lord, his trial is taking place now."

The figure the man had been addressing turned around and smiled. "Excellent." He started to walk, and the man quickly followed. "Dolohov, do you know how long I've waited for this day?"

Dolohov shook his head before realizing his lord could not see him. "No, my lord."

"I've waited sixteen years – longer, actually. But I've waited with all my soul for this day for sixteen years." He stopped suddenly and turned to face Dolohov. "Do you know why I waited for eight extra years? I can see you wondering why I didn't kill him immediately the day we took over the Ministry – ask your question."

Dolohov trembled and asked his question.

"That is an excellent question, Dolohov. I waited for eight years because I wanted him to suffer the way I did. To languish in the worst place created by humans. And it's perfect, isn't it? I waited for eight years after failing to kill the boy in a bodiless form, and he waits for me to end his suffering for eight years after I ruin his world." He laughed and continued walking.

The courtroom hushed when he walked in and all eyes followed his movements. "We are gathered here today to witness a momentous event," he began. "Today we witness the day that shall be remembered as the day I, Lord Voldemort, finally destroy all opposition towards me." He gestured to the court floor. "Bring him in."

Three Dementors glided in, and the temperature in the room dropped considerably. Trailing after them were two men escorting an elderly man to the chair in the center of the court. The men started to wind the chains around the bearded man as Lord Voldemort began to speak once more.

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore; you have been brought here today for the crimes you have committed against the New State. Your first charge brings Lucius Malfoy to the stand. Malfoy?"

Malfoy stood up and took Voldemort's place. "You have been charged with many attempted murders of our lord, beginning in the 1970s and ending in the final attempt on the 7th of July, 1999. Do you deny these charges?"

Dumbledore looked up, and that damned twinkle was still present in his eyes. "I do not."

"Then we have no choice but to submit you to the Dementor's Kiss. Goyle?"

One of the men who had escorted Dumbledore in nodded and brought the Dementors closer. No one looked away when the screaming started, for they had almost perfected the art of blocking it out. After all, they had had a lot of practice.

"Let this be a lesson to all of you," Lord Voldemort spoke, raising his voice a little to be heard over the shouts. "I shall always overcome, and boys who are prophesied to be the _Chosen One_ will never stand a chance against me. I will win – I will always win – and all who challenge me will be crushed. This is, truly, the start of the new age."

All eyes turned back to the man who lay slumped in the chair as Lord Voldemort, the man with the bright green eyes and the raven black hair, walked out of the room. The Ministry had fallen on the 31st of July, 1999, and the last member of the Order of the Phoenix had just been Kissed. It was, truly, the start of the new age.

* * *

 **A/N:** Happy Epilogue Day!


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